


Pride and Vindication

by dirtylittlegreasemonkey



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-25
Updated: 2015-08-25
Packaged: 2018-04-17 05:16:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4653777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtylittlegreasemonkey/pseuds/dirtylittlegreasemonkey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Aaron hadn't learnt the truth about Robert and they had gone to Lawrence's business convention as planned? Aaron is full of nerves and Robert, full of his usual business charm, is thrown by his pride and affection for Aaron at the convention. Surrounded by business contacts how long can they keep their hands off each other?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pride and Vindication

All four of his fingers are on Aaron’s knee and his thumb moves against the precise ironed crease of his suit trousers. He can’t help himself; he smiles at him. He catches sight of himself in the mirror and barely recognises the freedom in his happiness. It’s been a long, aching time since the two of them had any chance to be alone and properly together and now they have two days, a whole night away. Aaron lifts a hand and scratches the hair behind his ear.

“Are we going in then?” he says and then replaces his hand by his side. He looks out of the widescreen and across the car park to the hotel. The woodland surroundings dapple the inside of the car with a soft green light, but outside it’s bright, warm. Too warm to be wearing suits, too warm to be wearing anything at all.

It’s a four-star place, the Yorkshire View, with – according to the brochure – luxury rooms onsite and self-catered lodges in a more secluded setting. Lawrence had booked them into a suite with two adjoining bedrooms.

“You’ll have to share the en-suite,” Lawrence had said, placing his hand over the phone as he booked and checked Robert had no qualms about it. It worked out cheaper – he’d said – than booking two rooms. “I’m sure you can come to some sort of arrangement,” Lawrence had said in an off-hand way. Robert had conceded, trying his hardest to severe the grin that was itching his face and then stared at his blank laptop screen imagining the sharing of the en-suite. Fucking Aaron in the shower, against the sink, pressing their hands up against the steamed up mirror and giving Aaron a full kiss that tasted of cum. His stomach lurched at the prospect and once Lawrence was out of the way, he found himself in a bathroom at Home Farm masturbating over the fantasies he anticipated.

In the car, Robert lets the amusement play out on his tongue. “Are you nervous?” It’s endearing on Aaron – cute even. Of course, he doesn’t tell Aaron that – he’d hate knowing that vulnerability oozed out of him. He reaches across, hearing the soft squeak the leather seats give and turns Aaron’s face towards him, hand tenderly on his cheek. “It’ll be fine. Trust me. And I’ll be there to talk you up whenever the opportunity arises.” He smiles and runs his thumb along Aaron’s jaw. “You know that business inside out.”

“I wish we could just skip this bit,” Aaron says, a sigh giving way to a brief moment of relaxation. His gaze focuses in on Robert’s mouth.

Robert hums and leans in. The car is parked far enough away from the main entrance that he doesn’t have to worry about being spotted. “It won’t be long,” he says. “We can soon sack this off and have some fun of our own…”

The kiss is breathy and slow and Robert hears his own heart thrum in a big, solid pulse. How easy it would be to satisfy his cravings, his lust for Aaron with a quick carpark fumble or a roadside blowjob. How easy that would be if that’s all they were now, if that’s all he wanted. But after the lust, under the heat, came a greater longing. One of comfort and closeness and companionship. And you couldn’t get that from a quick handjob, even if it was sitting in the driver’s seat of the greatest car he’d ever owned.

*

They leave their bags with the porter who takes them up to the suite for them once they’ve checked in and they follow the banners and posters that point them in the direction of the machinery convention. Outside one of the conference suites there’s a circular table laid out with name badges. Robert turns to Aaron and picks out a badge with an alias different to his own name. His gaze drags up Aaron’s body.

“We could always pretend to be someone else for the trip?” He gives Aaron a wink and when he gets a good natured scoff in reply, replaces the badge and locates his own: _Robert Sugden: Home Farm Estates_ instead and pins it on.

He fights the urge to run his finger over Aaron’s name badge, to smooth down the lapels of his suit jacket. Aaron looks lost, baffled by the formality of the event, the scattering of businessmen and women in suits, sharing roaring laughter and earnest conversations about agriculture. When they enter the conference hall they’re dwarfed by the sheer number of display stands and suits milling around. It’s common ground for Robert, his eyes pick through the crowds discarding those areas and people he knows will be irrelevant to him. Aaron stays glued to the stop, his hands clenched by his side and his cheeks soft and round with a breath he’s trapping.

“I’m going to do a quick lap of the stalls, find out who’s here, sort the wheat from the chaff. Will you be alright?” Robert asks him and places his hand on Aaron’s arm. “Just have wander and I’ll come and find you.”

“I think I can manage,” he says.

Robert taps him on the side of his arm and strides purposefully through a gathering of delegates from an environmental waste corporation. He’s been to enough of these conferences with Lawrence’s firm to know who the groups to avoid are, who the time wasters are and who is out to rob you blind. That’s the one advantage to being raised on a farm – you know the terminology and when a salesman’s lying about machinery stamina and capabilities. But for these two days – on the work side of things – he’s not really interested in anything more than a little schmoozing. He’s got no interest in storage or livestock equipment or forklifts – it’s contacts he’s after, networking – and of course to point them in the very capable hands of Holey Scrap.

It’s a win-win as far as he’s concerned. Business for Aaron means money for him and money for Lawrence. Success for Aaron gives him a boost, a greater sense of worth and Robert would be lying if that didn’t deliver its own selfish happiness. Once it might have been just the physical gratification – he was more likely to put out if things were running smoothly – but ever since the scrapyard had been booming, Robert had felt a knot, one that felt oddly selfless, one that had felt like pride.  

It’s not long before he spies a familiar face and he swaggers over to Howard Moor, the head honcho of a fence and gate business. He’s usually their first port of call when there’s perimeter fencing that needs replacing at a discount price. The thought of talking shop bores Robert rigid but the words ‘scrap metal’ begins lighting up in his mind and he can’t resist turning on the charm. He knows it’ll be easy to secure a deal today if the rumours circulating are anything to go by. The company is straining under the scandal of Howard sleeping with his secretary, worse still his wife is a director of the firm. Chaos. Robert laughed at the time he heard about it – the cliché of it all.

“Howard Moor,” Robert says, greeting him with a solid handshake. “How is the world of secure and reliable fencing?”

Howard’s expanse of stomach rises and crumples in a laugh, utterly charmed and fooled again by Robert’s feigned interest. They talk shop for as long as Robert can stand and he musters a quiet touch of overblown sincerity for Howard’s personal problems.

“How _is_ business?” He listens as Howard tells him about clients retracting contracts and cancelling orders and leaving defamatory reviews on their company website. Poor, pathetic bastard. Robert pats him on the shoulder sympathetically all the while calculating whether this is working in his favour in a sympathy/discount ratio. 

“You know how it is,” Howard says, pulling the conversation off to one side, out of the earshot of the plucky young salesman with a clipboard standing in front of their display unit. “Sometimes temptation just gets too much. I mean – she was right there in front of me every day. She might as well’ve come with a sign that said _fuck me_ , you know?”

Robert gives him his best sympathetic nods, drifting in and out, trying to avoid listening to the oversharing detail Howard gives when he talks about what his young PA offered that his wife had vetoed.

“…but I suppose everything’s hunky-dory for you and yours at Home Farm? Business well?”

“I’ve got no complaints,” Robert says. He tries to make the transition into the sell as casual as possible, make it look as if he hadn’t been thinking about how to swerve the conversation into a discussion about scrap this whole time. When Howard had been talking he’d thought about the yard; he’d thought about hard kisses against a clapped-out van; he’d thought about the cabins; he’d thought about pulling Aaron over to the desk by the belt loops of his jeans; he’d thought about Aaron fingering him over the desk. He thought about them fucking each other to heaven and back.

He tilts his head to one side and raises a finger as if he’s just thought of how his and Howard’s businesses could become linked. “It’s just occurred to me, I haven’t told you about my latest investment. I think it might be of interest actually. What’s your current arrangement for recycling and scrap?”

He pulls all the right faces as Howard witters on and then he smiles, shaking his head like it’s a business match made in heaven. “Look,” – Robert begins – “give me a chance to do the rounds at the convention” – (can’t appear too keen, it’ll look desperate) – “there are some other people I need to speak to, but I’ve got one of the scrapyard owners with me today. Solid, dependable guy. Knows his stuff. He’s just won an enterprise award – great bloke. I’ll introduce you and see if we can’t draw up a deal.”

“Sounds fair enough,” Howard says with a firm nod.

Robert scoots around the rest of the convention with a few greetings, a little small talk and makes quick mental notes of potential deals he can make. Once he’s three-quarters of the way round the outer edge of the stalls, having taken a clockwise route, he spots Aaron. He has his hands dug into his pockets reading a towering poster about the latest innovation in mowers. Robert grins to himself and manages to swipe two glasses of prosecco from a passing waiter with a tray and heads over.

“Don’t tell Andy about this place,” Robert says, sidling up next to him and handing him a glass. “It’d be Toys R Us to him.”

Aaron laughs and then takes a reluctant sip from his glass.

Robert glances at him and smiles. “They weren’t handing out pints. I checked.”

“It’ll do,” he says, his face screwing up less at the second, bitter sip. “So – have you been hard at work? Whatever it is you do.”

Robert looks between the doorway where they started to the location they stand in now. “How have you only got this far in all the time I’ve been gone?”

“I got stuck talking to a bloke about tractor engines.”

“You didn’t tell him you’re a mechanic, did you?”

He nods, rolling his eyes. “I realised as soon as I said it I should’ve kept me mouth shut.” Aaron gazed over at him, taking him in slowly. “You haven’t answered my question.”

“I’m not really here for me,” he says and then turns to Aaron giving him a laboured and deliberate look, his mouth curving upwards. “Well…that’s not strictly true.” Aaron’s not really biting, so he sighs and finally answers his question. “I’ve been busy. There are a few people I want to introduce you to. Come on.”

Robert wants to make Howard wait for this rewarding partnership, so he’s the last contact they speak to. By the time they do, Aaron has relaxed and knows the small talk and the smooth transitions into business chat and the hard sell. Robert doesn’t even need to give him any pointers, they’re all taken in by his direct, straight forward explanations and he keeps his listeners interested just with the rich gruffness of his voice. Robert finds himself taking a step back, not even needing to talk him up, not needing to step in and reassert his investor authority – Aaron has it covered. By the time they’re on their third introduction, Robert gets a call from Lawrence and he finds himself touching Aaron’s waist to indicate he’ll be back. It’s only on hindsight, when he’s alone that he realises how intimate and reflexive the move was and prays no one else noticed.

“Robert – how’s it all going at the convention?” Lawrence says, his voice booming from the other end.

“Yeah, it’s all looking pretty promising,” Robert says, turning so that Aaron’s in his eyesight again. He’s showing the man from the tractor firm photos of the scrapyard on his phone. He’s animated, face bright and open, a delicate smile just denting the corners. It’s infectious.

“And how’s my protégé getting on? Meeting all the right people, I hope?”

“Aaron? Yeah he’s…” As Robert tries to find the words, Aaron glances up at him and smirks – gives him a look which says _come back – this guy’s doing my nut in_ – and what else can Robert do but grin back, warmth and affection burying into him. “He’s really found his feet,” Robert says trying to rescue his long and hesitant pause. “He’s doing great.”

He ties up the call as fast as he can and returns back to Aaron, who is gripped with a handshake with the company director. Robert only hears the tail end of the conversation, but it sounds positive.

“He wants to drop in at the scrapyard on Wednesday,” Aaron says, partly under his breath as they walk away, with Robert leaning in close to hear.

“Nice one,” he says and then shoots a look back over his shoulder where the man – peppery bearded and in a checked shirt – is watching them still. “Reckon he fancies you.”

Aaron scoffs, laughing it off. “Not everyone’s like you, you know.”

“Alright,” he says, bumping his shoulders against Aaron’s as they walk. No one else here is as close as they are, no one’s this touchy-feely, this pally, this proud and affectionate. He just can’t stop himself. He steers Aaron in the direction of Howard. “Last one and then we’re taking a break.”

“I was just getting the hang of it.”

“Really?” Robert says, stopping short of Howard’s earshot. “Because another hour of combine harvesters and silos, or you and me find somewhere a bit quieter…your choice.”

“See, I was sorta looking forward to the lawn mower race at two.”

Robert’s about to come back with something sharper, sexier, something about how he was planning to take him for a spin in the Stingray and fuck him on the bonnet but before he opens his mouth Howard approaches, hands stuffed into his pockets.

“You left me hanging, Robert,” he says, his eyes flitting between the pair of them.

Robert takes a step back from Aaron, all too aware of the electric proximity. Tutting at himself, as if this all wasn’t some deliberate game, Robert shakes his head. “Sorry Howard, there’s just so many familiar faces here.” He turns to Aaron. “Aaron this is Howard Moor – he’s runs the best fencing and security firm in the business. And Howard, meet the most hard-working, reliable scrapper this side of Yorkshire – Aaron Livesy from Holey Scrap.” He can’t stop himself, he feels it again – the pride, bubbling over. “What this guy doesn’t know about scrap metal isn’t worth knowing. He started the business from nothing and well…I’ve never seen a turnover like it. I couldn’t have asked for a better investment.”

Aaron beams and they’re both forced to look away.

Howard’s already sold and Robert doesn’t have to do much more to talk Aaron up, but he interjects whenever he can feel Aaron’s modesty and nonchalance creeping in. It stops becoming about the money and about his own business, about his own allegiance with Howard. It’s about Aaron and Aaron alone. Howard suggests they take a break from the intensity and bustle of the conference room. There are outside stalls too, with exhibitions and demonstrations of the machinery but Howard suggests the hotel bar and they’re only too happy to agree.

“It makes complete sense,” Howard is saying, sat in the hotel bar. Robert is only half listening, eyeing the wet glisten of lager on Aaron’s upper lip. The white foam was there only a moment ago, but it’s melted now and after another swig, his tongue darts out to lick his lips. He listens intently, nodding along – at least it probably looks that way in Howard’s eyes. Robert knows him better. His pupils are glazed and he glances at Robert in short, tempted bursts, chewing back the smile he’s battling with. Their knees are touching under the table. Heat against heat. Robert watches his throat and his groin _aches_.

“…it just seemed like a good business opportunity,” Aaron is saying, but the conversation sounds like a distant fly to Robert, dipping in and out. He can’t wait any longer. With an idea in mind, he squirms, retrieving his phone from his pocket.

“Sorry,” he says. “I just need to get this.” He gestures at the phone, hiding the screen so they’re unable to see the blank screen and taps at it, sliding out from the table and conducting a conversation with himself. He weaves his way out towards the back of the bar and hides out in a corridor leading to a fire escape, sending a quick text to Aaron as he does. _Tell Howard you’re going to the toilet. Find me. Turn left, then right out the furthest bar exit._

He’s left waiting a good three minutes, but it might as well be four times that. Aaron slips guiltily out of the doorway, flushed in the cheeks and tie slightly askew. His eyes are wide when he finally clocks Robert. “What are you playing-”

Robert refuses to let him make the end of that sentence and has him by the tie and his hip, thrusting him against the wall with the full weight of his body. They slam and reverb and then it’s all mouths and pleasure, Robert grunting and hands working at dragging their pelvises together. Aaron tastes sweeter than the beer bitterness his lips shine with and he proves his need is just as great, sliding his hand under Robert’s jacket and letting his lithe tongue do all the work to unravel Robert. They’re lost in the desperation of the kiss, the throng of people hidden just metres away not even entering their heads.

When they break, short of breath and Robert’s hand having found its way to Aaron’s face, he’s quick to smile and move in for another kiss until Aaron stops him. Robert sees his chest shaking, rising and falling.

“Get rid of Howard,” he says. “I wanna go upstairs.”

*

The key-card takes several attempts before it lights up green and Robert isn’t sure if it’s just out to get him, or if his hands are clammy and shaking, or if it’s the sound of Aaron behind him unlacing his tie that’s making him clumsy. The door opens to reveal a large living space, a room in the suite big enough for a family of four, and then three further rooms – two bedrooms and an en-suite. He should feel guilty this is at his father in law’s expense. He should. He doesn’t. How can he? Aaron has the door shut and leans against it, his eyes half-hooded and collar open. The tie snakes around his neck and Robert approaches, taking it in hand and in one smooth pull leaves it to fall like a ribbon to the floor. He can hear his own desire in loud, ragged breaths coming up from his chest. He’s not clumsy anymore; he opens up Aaron’s shirt button by button one handed, while his free hand strokes through Aaron’s suit trousers at the growing bulge. Aaron’s lips part and he fights it – but his eyes flutter closed.

Once the last button opens, he peels Aaron’s shirt off and a sigh comes out with it, one of satisfaction, one of finally having Aaron at his mercy. Seeing him half naked again bestows Robert with a renewed enthusiasm, and he feels as if he has some sort of understanding what it’s like to be deprived, starved, underprivileged. He pulls at Aaron’s trousers until they’re loose around his hips and drags him away from the door, mouth attaching to his again. Aaron claws at Robert’s shirt and there’s a sniggering backwards-walk had trying to get rid of the damn thing. His fingers skim over the light trace of hairs at the base of Aaron’s spine, like touching gold dust, as Aaron’s hands map upwards from his stomach to his chest and hook somewhere behind his neck.

There’s a glint in Aaron’s eyes when their kiss breaks and he bites on his lip. Robert matches his expression with wide, wild joy. Their eyes meet. The next move is half-staggering and teetering, but with arms and legs wrapped around Robert, Aaron’s carried towards one of the bedrooms, pausing midway to press against the doorframe. Childish laughter and teenage kissing. Aaron finds his way to the bed himself, stripping of underwear and resting back on his elbows to watch Robert undress completely.

“You’re making a right meal outta that,” Aaron says, commenting on Robert’s sluggish attempts to undress – trying to kick off his shoes and unfasten his belt at the same time.

He looks up, flattening Aaron’s sarcasm with his grin. “You could make yourself useful.”

“What, and help?”

Robert runs his tongue along his bottom lip and his eyes do all the work for him, drinking in the delicious recline of Aaron’s body.

“Nah,” he says. “You’re alright.” He glances around the room and to the floor before getting up onto his feet.

Robert feels a brief trill of pleasure darting through his nerves as Aaron approaches and he holds his breath, transfixed by the taut muscles of his stomach getting nearer. He holds out his hands ready to touch him but Aaron carries on past, Robert’s disappointment trailing with him.

“Calm down,” Aaron says, teasingly. “Just getting stuff from my bag.”

Impatience clings to him and now just in his boxers Robert wanders back to the lounge area and saunters over to Aaron. He straightens up, clutching a Durex box and a bottle of lube in hand and Robert just can’t resist cruising up behind him and pressing up against him with a squeeze of his waist.

He croons into his neck, his tongue alive on the flesh. “I could get used to this,” he says, running his hands up over Aaron’s chest and circling one of his nipples with his forefinger. He can’t see a change in Aaron’s face but he feels a soft slump of his body in response. It’s such a rare opportunity to have Aaron completely bare, totally exposed and confident enough to walk around like it, that he can’t help but want to bury himself in him.

Robert pulls him back to the bedroom, fingers laced, and pushes him onto the bed, letting him sigh and spread out across the mass of white duvet. Robert stretches out across him, feeling Aaron’s legs part and knees rise up as his clothed groin rubs against the firm outline of Aaron’s cock. Their mouths meet and smother any of Aaron’s startled moans – the ones he’s usually so keen to keep private.

Aaron’s hands are on him, thumbs digging and pulling at the waistband of Robert’s underwear and then his hands grope desperately, their path shaken by Aaron’s preoccupation with fighting against his own lust, until he can finally palm Robert’s cock.

Aaron’s so different in bed. So free, so – and it’s the wrong word – but, easy. Uncomplicated. His eyes blow apart all his secrets and his body betrays him. Aaron throws his head back across the pillow and loses grip on Robert’s cock. Robert looms over him and sucks on his bottom lip, pulling at it with his teeth. He feels Aaron’s leg wrap itself around his back like a corkscrew and his hips elevate off the bed so that Robert’s hand has access to slide and caress and hold his ass cheek.

Robert wants to suck him off, he wants his mouth humming with Aaron’s pulse but he knows neither of them have the luxury of patience right now – Aaron’s pressed the lubricant into his palm – and he just wants to fuck him senseless.

“Don’t knacker yourself,” Aaron says, lazily thumbing the head of his own dick. “It’s my turn next.”  

The smile is hidden, his mouth pressed against Aaron’s throat. “Is that a promise?” He sits back, kneeling on the bed and takes a slick finger and runs it over Aaron’s rim.

Aaron’s bravado melts, eyelids sinking. “Depends.” He’s having to focus on getting words out with his voice hitching.

“Oh yeah? On what?” Robert pushes a steady finger inside Aaron, stomach clenching with the heat of him.

“If you earn it.”

It’s only a matter of time before Robert proves he can earn it. Aaron reaches out, touching the side of his face with a tender affection and it feels like a lifetime since they last had the chance to do this. His forehead is lined with tense pleats and Robert wants to smooth them, but then Aaron is speaking, saying his name in the delicate, boyish way only he can.

“Robert,” he says and all the urgency and ripping desperation from earlier has dissolved. “Just…take it slow.”

He knows the subtext. No one’s around, no one’s ready to catch them or interrupt them. There’s no one about to kill the mood or interfere. It’s just the two of them and they don’t know when it’ll happen again. They need something to remember.

So he doesn’t rush. He fills Aaron until he can’t remember life without the white heat and suffocating tightness of Aaron’s body. He absorbs it into his bloodstream. He hears a half thrashed whimper escape Aaron and they kiss sporadically, shakily, between each searing thrust of Robert’s pelvis. Even before it happens, Robert is loud, swearing to god that he’s going to come. His knuckles are as white as the juddering bed as he digs his fists into the sheets and sees Aaron’s mouth and head twist in separate directions as if possessed. He’s squirming, with a damp forehead and a cock making his belly wet, but it’s so fucking desirable that Robert just laughs. This is his, all his. His doing, his Aaron, his cock making him this blissed.

In moments like this Robert feels vindicated. Everything bad he’s ever done is forgivable, justified, for these highs. He comes and he’s fucking invincible. Aaron too. Whatever the comedown, you can’t regret a climax like that.

Aaron’s still breathing – just – raspy and damp as Robert cleans him up with his tongue. Robert feels the thick wad of hair at the back of his hair ruffled and flattened by Aaron’s lethargic touch. They’re not recovered enough yet to reignite, but Robert kisses the softening head of Aaron’s cock and lets the length press into his hot mouth just so he can taste him. He’s quivering and salty and all Robert wants is to fuck again.

Aaron groans and pushes him away, worming up the centre of the bed and curling up onto his side, foetally. With a full bodied, sated groan, Robert stretches out beside him and then rolls so they’re pressed together, spooned.

“Am I the best you’ve ever had, or what?” Robert says, orgasm fuelling his ego.

Aaron scoffs and leans into him. “Only you’d ask sommit like that.”

“You like my arrogance. It turns you on.” Robert kisses his shoulder.

“If you say so.”

Robert takes a greedy handful of Aaron’s fleshy backside and slaps the back of his thighs playfully, a teasing precursor to an intense lapse into softness when he pulls Aaron back into his arms. “I wonder how long we can get away with hiding out up here,” he says, circling his touch against the hair on Aaron’s arms.

“A bit longer,” Aaron says, hope ringing in his tone. “I’m glad you managed to talk your way into coming here.”

Robert smirks. “Well…” He kisses up the nape of Aaron’s neck, mouth resisting Aaron’s shivers. “Who else is going to make sure you’re _doing_ the right things?”

A little snort escapes Aaron and he flattens out on his back, slinging an arm out until the outline of it rests on Robert’s shoulders. “I don’t need your guidance, do I?”

“No,” Robert says, agreeing with a wide, sunshine-smile. He smooths his palm across the head of Aaron’s cock and enjoys the satisfying jerk of Aaron’s body. “Definitely not.”

After a brief moment, Aaron’s expression changes and his gaze flicks away. “Have you done this before?”

“What?”

Aaron rolls his eyes as if it’s an obvious conclusion to make. “Sacked off a convention to get laid.”

“Only if I thought it wouldn’t get back to Lawrence,” Robert says, laying out flat beside Aaron, but keeping an arm round him. He turns his head on the pillow to see Aaron looking straight up at the ceiling, far away. “Not like this though.”

“What do you mean?”

“I didn’t stick around for a chat, for any of this. It was just sex. No hotel suite, no…cuddling.” Robert gestures to the bed, to the way their bodies haven’t broken contact.

He laughs briefly, shaking his head and then Robert takes hold of his face and turns his head until they’re looking at each other – Aaron shier than he ought to be for what they’ve just done. “I didn’t want to spend any longer with them than twenty minutes. This isn’t like that. I want the whole night and more with you.”

He kisses him slowly, achingly, just because he wants to, his hand whisper-light on Aaron’s waist. He means it. The past conquests were nothing – he doesn’t remember a name or a mouth, nothing remarkable, nothing unpleasant, just nothing.

Aaron’s embedded into his bones.

He smells warm and dark, wrapping around all of Robert’s senses like smoke and there’s a moment in the kiss where Robert’s weightless, living somewhere in limbo where he has no need to think about anything than the slow thump of contentment in his chest. Aaron moves the kiss into something fiercer, surprising Robert with the acceleration. He shifts on top of Robert, tongue hungry and possessive and drags his hands down over his chest.

Their mouths break with a satisfying smack and Aaron is breathless, hair rough and shagged above him. He exhales deeply and the air pants between Robert’s lips. He watches Aaron’s spine curve and with it, another flash of the ass he just wants hold of, but they’re not playing that game right now.

There’s a solid knot of excitement in his throat and he swallows it down, his head spinning as he tries to keep a focus on Aaron’s face. He watches his lips dip and suck at his nipple until they’re freed – red and shiny. Robert abandons all attempts at control and submits willingly, eagle spreading his arms across the king-sized bed.

“Don’t get too comfy,” Aaron says, resting back on his haunches and making Robert open his eyes. “Roll over.”

Robert gets to it with all the enthusiasm of a kid on Christmas morning and doesn’t need asking twice. He coils up, back arched and supported by elbows and knees.

“So, are you gonna rim me?” he says, sounding all breathy and pathetic. “You know I like it.”

Robert remembers the first time Aaron did it. Different hotel, different pace, different position. He’d been more dominant and Aaron more eager to please, more cautious, more awed. He’d got into his stride pretty fast, hot breath spurting out of his nose and steady strokes of his tongue. Robert hadn’t bucked much, not wanting to scare him off, but just enough to guide Aaron at the speed he wanted.

He has no need for that now – Aaron’s in control, Aaron has him bent over and served up over the bed and Aaron is the fucking master of rim jobs. Robert doesn’t even know what he does, only that it won’t get any better than what Aaron does.

“Don’t…don’t do this to me,” Robert says, whining when the tip of Aaron’s tongue swirls against his thick inner thighs. “No…do. Do.”

“Can’t ever make up your mind, can you?” Aaron says, the intent there but the malice removed as he plays his tongue over Robert’s opening.

Robert groans and it buries deep in the mattress of the bed. It’s strangled when he speaks. “Put your tongue back,” he says and moans again when a rough little lick from Aaron turns into something smooth and complete. Aaron’s mouth is busy then, no time for talks, just the smart, slick dismantling of Robert’s ego.

*

They lay, post-fuck, sweat and cum sticky. Aaron’s wrapped around Robert’s waist. This intimacy would be claustrophobic, cloyingly trapped, if it weren’t for a growing need of Robert’s to be this attached to him. It slipped out again, the naked honesty – those three words – but if Aaron heard through the blinding haze of the orgasm he was riding through at the time, then he didn’t respond, didn’t reply. Robert wants to tell him again now, with his sleepy mouth pink and open against Robert’s shoulder blade. But he doesn’t, he lets the time slip away until they both doze, floating through the lullaby outside of tractor races on the hotel grounds.


End file.
